


bore the shadows that you made (with no light of my own)

by hawkeyemorelikehawkaye



Series: the moon will sing (a song for me) [2]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magic, The Blight Parents suck, Witches, its the blights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26391727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeyemorelikehawkaye/pseuds/hawkeyemorelikehawkaye
Summary: Healer Maud Cane was not easily impressed. Despite this, she was gentle with children. Titan knew these children in particular needed it.
Series: the moon will sing (a song for me) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915387
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	bore the shadows that you made (with no light of my own)

Healer Maud Cane was not easily impressed. She was six feet and seven inches tall, with long salt-and-pepper hair that she kept in a neat braid. She had graduated from Irsthorn’s Institute of Healing Magic over five decades ago, long before the raindeer had struck an antler through it and closed it forever. 

Despite all this, she was gentle with children. She had a nephew of her own, and was often left babysitting her great-niblings. That, combined with her apprentice- a young witch named Callum- being a teenager, she had developed a sense of how to deal with children.

“Ah,” Maud observed the diagnostic spell scribble on a sheet of paper, “I may need to call in a potioneer.”

The youngest girl- Amity- blinked up at her in confusion. “Don’t healers have pre-stocked potions?” She asked, cocking her head.

“I have basic potions and salves,” Maud corrected, “But a potion more complex than healing a sprain needs basilisk fang, which doesn’t keep well on shelves. The only exception is curse elixirs.”

Amity ‘ _ oh _ ’ed, before turning to the girl twin- Emira- and slumping into her. Her eyes seemed heavy, as if she might fall asleep any moment.

“That’s normal for someone under as much stress as you lot likely were,” Maud assured Emira, who had been starting to look panicky. “I’d let her sleep, unless you want to wake her up and have her walk to the bed.” She gestured to three empty patient beds, set up along the wall of the room.

The twins shared a glance, before Emira gently picked the girl up, the boy- Edric- sticking close to her side. Together, they carried her to the bed farthest from the door, in the corner directly under the window.

Glancing back to the diagnostic spell, Maud saw that it had ceased, and she grabbed it, bringing it to her face and putting on her reading glasses.

Blinking, she re-read it. Then again. Luckily, she wouldn’t need a potioneer, but still.

“Alright,” She said, summoning several potions and shoving down her rage, “They may not taste great, but drink these, and you’ll get better.” She gave each child several potions, depending on their diagnosis, and then nodded as they drank them, waking up Amity to take hers.

“Now then,” Maud said, “I need to head out to refill some potions and talk to Mrs. Shacklestone.”

Stepping out, she folded out the creases in her healer’s outfit and set up a privacy spell, before heading over to Piper, who was sitting in a waiting room chair.   
“Maud!” Piper perked up upon seeing her. “How are they?”

Maud frowned, suppressing an enraged growl. “Bad.” She said curtly, willing herself some cold professionalism. “The oldest two have burns on both their hands and arms, as well as bruises, and signs of overall damage. All three are magically and physically exhausted, and it’s been at least a day since they’ve had a good meal.”

Piper fell into a grimm silence. “I figured it was bad,” She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing at her elbow. “What should I do?”

Maud considered it for a moment. “Do you want my professional opinion, or my honest opinion?”

Piper cracked open an eye. “Honest, please.”

Maud nodded. “I think you should, frankly, adopt them.” Pausing, she held up a hand, counting off on her fingers. “They have clear signs of abuse, neglect, they’re children, and honestly you only really wanted at least one reason.” She shrugged. “It just makes sense.”

“I was going to talk to Vivian about it,” Piper admitted, “Do you think you can handle them while I call her?”

“Of course,” Maud said, pretending to be offended. “I handled you as a child, I can handle them.”

“Thank you,” Piper looked relieved, stepping out of the room to call Vivian on her scroll. Turning back to the healing rooms, Maud took a moment to summon some food from the dining hall- soup, warm and basic enough that the children should be able to digest it- and stepped back in.

“Ah,” Maud blinked at the two teenagers in a pile by the door, “I suppose you were trying to eavesdrop?”

“No?” Tries Edric. Emira face-palmed.

“Well,” Maud let them stand and then handed over the soup, “I suppose that didn’t work out, did it?”

“It didn’t,” Groused Edric.

“I sure wonder why that could be,” Maud said innocently, stepping around the twins to leave the last bowl of soup on Amity’s nightstand.

“Now,” Maud straightened up, using her healer voice, “Don’t rush yourselves eating, or you’ll vomit it back up. And,” She twisted her finger in a tiny circle and summoned metal water bottles, “Stay hydrated.” She handed the bottles over, pausing for a moment to cast a warming charm on Amity’s soup.

That done, she went back into her office, sitting down and going to a bookmarked spot in her favorite book. It was a memoir, the only one from the time that she was allowed to read.

_ But I had scarcely recovered from Einar’s attack when Isidora suddenly lunged at me, eyes wild and claws bared. Seething, she slashed at my stomach, and I could hardly hear Medeia’s scream. _

_ I must admit, dear reader, I blacked out then... _

Maud was startled out of the memoir when Piper knocked on the door, stepping into the office. 

“Hey,” Piper greeted, casting a privacy spell. “Vivian and I decided we’d raise the question with them, and if they’re open to it we’ll adopt them.” Pausing, she considered something. “Do they have their immunizations?”

“Yes,” Maud dipped her head in acknowledgment, “The next one due is the youngest’s anti-bone rot, in 59 weeks.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now, leave me and my patients be- you can visit again tomorrow morning, but they need their rest.”

“Alright, alright,” Piper chuckled, grabbing something out of her pocket. “Oh, and Vivian asked to give you this.”

Handing it over, she smiled and then left.

“Huh.”  _ It _ was a folded up piece of parchment, wrinkled from the pocket but no worse for wear. Unfolding it, she saw it was a pass to read the personal story and memoirs part of the restricted section.

“Well then,” Maud huffed in amusement, refolding it and putting it in her breast pocket, “I suppose Medeia’s memoirs will be mine to read after all.”


End file.
